


Freudian Slip

by orphan_account



Series: Danganronpa smut fics [9]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Daddy Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25192459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A slip of the tongue leads to Makoto getting deep in over his head with Headmaster Kirigiri, but he finds himself not regretting it in the slightest.
Relationships: Kirigiri Jin/Naegi Makoto
Series: Danganronpa smut fics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572568
Comments: 22
Kudos: 90





	Freudian Slip

Makoto nervously adjusts his tie, playing with the red cloth and making sure it’s properly in place before patting down the rest of his uniform. He takes in a slightly shaky breath, staring at the large oak doors in front of him that leads into the Headmaster’s office.

He still can’t believe he was called here, and for something so… so _stupid._ He’d been walking with some classmates and passed by the Headmaster chatting with their teacher, and just as he was about to greet Headmaster Kirigiri something in his brain had gotten mixed up - it’s not _his_ fault that Kyoko’s dad looks like his - and he’d called him ‘Dad’ instead of his proper title…

He covers his face and groans in embarrassment, ears burning just thinking about it. Just his luck. His classmates had all laughed at him and the Headmaster had given him a long, searching look with a quirked brow and a slight smile before telling Makoto to come to his office later.

And now, here he is. Delaying the inevitable by adjusting his tie. He sighs and slumps in defeat.

_No point in putting it off any longer…_

Stomach settling heavily like a ball of iron in his gut, he raises a hand and knocks on the door before opening it. “Um, excuse me, Headmaster.”

He opens the door, poking his head in and eyeing the somewhat grandiose office. He hadn’t had the opportunity to be in here very often, only coming in once or twice with a classmate of his when things had gotten out of hand as Ultimates are wont to do. It’s decently sized, a large window at the back of it spanning the wall, bookshelves on one side and a small seating area on the other. In the middle, close to the windows, is Kirigiri Jin sitting at the large oak desk, smiling at him and putting a pen down.

“Come in, Makoto,” he says, waving him in and standing from his desk, walking over to him to greet him at the door. He motions over to the seating area to the side, shutting the door for him and smiling down at him. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

“A-Ah… Okay,” he says awkwardly, eyes sliding down the Headmaster’s chest and realizing just how close he’d come up to him. He can smell Kirigiri’s cologne and everything… He flushes and takes a quick step back before hurrying over to the small leather loveseat.

He hears a subtle click behind him and looks back, Headmaster Kirigiri stepping away from the door with a casual smile, one hand in a pocket and the other slipping away from the door handles.

 _Did… he just lock the door?_ Makoto wonders, anxiety spiking again in his stomach. The Headmaster doesn’t _look_ upset, but for what other reason would he lock the door behind him if not because he was planning on giving him a firm, long talking to and didn’t want to be interrupted? He shakes his head and tries to stay hopeful that at the very least his bad luck wouldn’t lead to him being expelled.

He takes a seat and watches Kirigiri slowly stride over, the Headmaster’s eyes flicking from Makoto’s gaze down his body and back up again. It feels heavy, almost heated, but he can’t put his finger on why.

The Headmaster reaches the seating area and, in a move that takes him by surprise, sits directly next to him on the small loveseat rather than taking a spot on the seat across. He can feel the older man’s body heat even through their suits, and the slightly musky smell of his cologne washes over him again. He tries scooting away to use what little space there is left, but then Kirigiri drapes an arm around his shoulders all while smiling easily down at him, purple eyes shining humorously.

Makoto tries to take that as a good sign that he’s not about to be expelled after all. But...

_He’s sitting so close…_

“How are classes?” the Headmaster asks.

Makoto blinks. That wasn’t what he was expecting. “Er, they’re going well I guess. I’m mostly trying to keep up, despite not really having a talent like the rest of them.”

Kirigiri hums thoughtfully. “Most lucky students tend to claim they don’t _really_ have a talent, but I believe otherwise.” He turns a handsome grin onto him. “Don’t put yourself down so easily. You’re just and unique and important as the rest of the students here!”

When he says it so confidently like that, Makoto almost believes him. It’s… nice being paid attention to like this. He knows the teachers don’t mean to do it, but he can tell that they don’t really believe he has a place at Hope’s Peak, and even if they do, they have no clue how to help cultivate his so-called talent. So being told all this by someone as influential and knowledgeable as Kirigiri Jin, it feels good. It makes him feel warm and wanted.

Makoto can’t help but grin back and the Headmaster ruffles his hair playfully before returning his arm back to it’s warm spot around his shoulders.

“How about classmates? Getting along well?”

This is an easy topic - he’s learned more about his classmates than he ever thought he would. Most of them are like an open book, eager to talk about themselves and their talents with a bit of prompting and the right word here and there. He’d even managed to crack Kyoko and Toko with enough patience and effort.

It’s a little bittersweet knowing that no matter how he treats them or how they feel about him, after they graduate they’re all going to forget about him. No matter what Kirigiri says, at least Byakuya isn’t afraid to tell the truth - he’s a commoner, as normal as they come. He’s fine with that, comfortable and happy with his life, but sometimes it stings just a bit.

“It’s been interesting getting to know them,” he settles on finally. It’s true, and he doesn’t think that Kirigiri wants to hear about his troubles with self-esteem.

“You must be popular with the girls then, hm?” Headmaster Kirigiri says, the arm curled around his shoulders squeezing a bit, jostling him lightly. The question combined with the overly familiar gesture makes him blush harder, shyly looking down at his knees and blinking when the Headmaster’s free hand floats over to his thigh and rests on it.

“U-Uh… Um… N-Not really, I guess.”

The palm on his thigh is wide and warm, the heat seeping through the cloth of his uniform pants and paradoxically making him shiver. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the bizarre closeness and the feeling of the Headmaster petting his thigh.

“Hah, a cute boy like you doesn’t have any girls hanging off of him?” the Headmaster almost laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling warmly. “I’m not sure I believe that.”

His face feels hot, and his throat clicks when he tries swallowing. The hand on his thigh slides slightly upwards, towards - no, that can’t be right. Why would the Headmaster do something like that? Makoto’s mind is swimming, coming up with things that simply make no sense. He subtly tries scooting away from the man holding him, but the Headmaster’s arm keeps him firmly pressed against his side.

“A-Ah… It’s true…”

“Any girl that’s caught your eye?” After a pause the Headmaster winks at him. “Or boy, no judgement.”

“N… I don’t - ah, I don’t have anyone, no.” His tongue feels numb, words stumbling out of his mouth when he feels Kirigiri’s thumb trace the creases in his pants towards the junction of his hip, dragging downwards and getting dangerously close to his crotch. Should he say something? Should he _do_ something?

“So…” Headmaster Kirigiri hugs him even closer, head bowing down and putting his lips next to his ear, breath tickling his hair. “You’re a virgin?”

The inside of his chest feels like it’s trembling with how hard his heart is beating and how shallow his breathing is. Kirigiri’s hand finishes it’s slow journey, palm sliding right over his crotch, grinding slightly against him. It feels strange, sort of good, someone else’s hand teasing him, but this is _his Headmaster,_ this isn’t _right_ -

“Makoto? I asked you something.”

His voice is right next to his ear sending shivers down his back, but he can’t rip his eyes away from the broad, warm hand palming at his cock through his uniform pants. What has he gotten himself into? They’d been having a completely normal conversation and then _this_ happened.

“I am…” he answers almost shamefully, knowing how inexperienced that must make him sound, ears burning and moaning when the older man massages at him and he feels his cock twitch in his pants.

The arm looped around his shoulders moves, a hand curling around his chin and tilting his face towards the Headmaster. “Have you ever kissed anyone before? Like an adult does?”

He can feel Kirigiri’s breath on his lips, smell the tea he’d been drinking before. This must be some sort of strange dream. But the older man feels so warm and solid sitting next to him, his face so clear and detailed and moving closer -- his head feels like it’s spinning.

Before his scrambled thoughts can stitch themselves back together, Kirigiri moves in and kisses him.

It’s a simple press of lips at first, dry and smooth. Kirigiri’s lips move against his enticingly, pressing firm kisses against him as he sits stock still, frozen and unsure of what to do. He’s _kissing_ him. He’s kissing him and rubbing at his dick while they’re sitting in his locked office and Makoto’s not even sure what prompted all of this.

It’s wrong… He should stop this - but…

Kirigiri licks at his mouth and when he doesn’t move, a finger presses against the corner of his lips until he opens, and he licks inside. It’s wet and hot and unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He hadn’t answered the Headmaster’s question but it’s true, he’s never kissed like an adult before - he’s shared small innocent pecks with girls who had a passing interest in him before, but nothing like this.

He pulls away and Makoto pants for breath, feeling light-headed and dizzy, lips slick and wet. The Headmaster’s hand on his crotch rubs in a hard circle and he almost whimpers. He’s getting hard now, all of the heat building under his collar and spinning around inside of his head until he’s not sure which way is up. All he knows is that his body feels caged against the older man and... he thinks he might like it.

Kirigiri’s tongue flits out to wet his bottom lip and Makoto flushes when his mouth reflexively opens in response. The Headmaster’s mouth quirks into a smile but graciously he says nothing, simply leaning back in and kissing him deeply again.

He feels like he loses track of time then, or maybe that time simply becomes less real, the sensations overloading him - his lips buzzing pleasantly and mouth and chin getting slick with drool from their messy kiss, his heart pounding and lungs burning from it, the heat from their shared body warmth and his own flustered embarrassment slowly cooking him, and worst of all the aching need building slowly between his legs.

When Kirigiri breaks their kiss again, pulling back until the thin line of drool between their mouths disconnects, he looks down at where his hand is molesting Makoto and grins.

“You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” he says appreciatively, tracing around the obvious bulge of his erection in his pants. “Just the perfect size.”

Just the perfect size for what, Makoto has no clue. All he knows is that he’s not massaging at him anymore, not kissing him anymore, and his mind feels too shaken up to think of anything but wanting more attention, and he whines out a wordless complaint.

“Hush, Makoto. Now undo your pants for me,” he says, low and deep like it’s a secret just between them, and Makoto feels himself move to obey him before he even realizes what he’s doing, numb fingers clumsily pulling off his belt and opening his pants. Kirigiri watches him through hooded eyes, gaze locked onto the wet spot on the front of his boxers. “Good boy.”

A frisson of shivers crackle down his back at those words, making his insides feel hot and liquid. He can barely breathe from the anticipation when Kirigiri’s hand hovers over his tented boxers, fighting the urge to thrust his hips up and get the friction he needs so badly. Kirigiri’s hand hesitates for a second longer before his fingers slide under the band of his shorts rather than curl around his clothed erection.

The feeling of skin on skin is almost too much. His cock throbs when the Headmaster wraps his hand around him and pulls him out of his shorts, the air cool on his sensitive skin. His palm feels almost too rough, too hot, grip too loose and too tight all at once.

“Headmaster…” He’s not whining, he’s _not,_ he just _needs something -_

Another sharp, almost painful jolt of pleasure flashes up his spine and twists his stomach up into knots when Kirigiri starts stroking in earnest. His thumb presses under the head, smearing over it and dragging his precome down with each stroke. It’s wet and it’s messy and it’s so much better than when he does it himself it almost doesn’t feel real.

It doesn’t take long for him to get close, the familiar tension building in his thighs and stomach.

“H-Headmaster Kiri--”

“Ahh, Makoto,” the Headmaster interrupts him, sounding only barely breathless, his hand stilling and loosening around his dick. Makoto whimpers and thrusts his hips into the loose grip, feeling so _close_ it hurts. “Would you mind doing something for me? If you do, I’ll let you finish.”

“Yes, yes, please,” he whines, angling his head for another kiss. “Anything, _please._ ”

Headmaster Kirigiri breathes in sharply through his nose then, eyes fluttering shut briefly. “You’re such a good boy, Makoto,” he praises, then asks in that same, soothing, warm tone, “Would you call me Daddy?”

Makoto’s thoughts waver and clarify through the white noise of arousal. “Huh?”

It feels like it should be a joke, the older man making fun of his slip-up from earlier, but when he looks at his expression it looks dead calm. They stare at one another in silence aside from his panting and pounding heartbeat, before Headmaster Kirigiri sighs and starts to pull away. He can’t - he can’t just _stop_ now -

“D-Daddy,” he says before he can stop himself, loosely wrapping a hand around the Headmaster’s wrist and keeping his hand against his aching dick. Swallowing roughly at the sudden intensity in Kirigiri’s eyes, he says with slightly more confidence, “Daddy.”

Kirigiri sighs, a tinge of relief mixed with excitement lining it. “Good boy.”

And then he starts touching him again, jerking him off more quickly, the slick of his precome making the slide easier, the sounds of it making his stomach tie into knots from how hot it all is. He wants more, faster, _something,_ he doesn’t even know what anymore.

“Daddy, please,” he begs, grabbing at the Headmaster’s shoulders to steady himself and rolling his hips to meet him. “Please, more!”

The Headmaster surges forward and presses their mouths together again, hard, his lips almost stinging, but it feels good, it makes his head even fuzzier and warmer, like it’s being stuffed full of cotton. He doesn’t _want_ to think anymore, not about anything but how good the Headmaster’s making him feel, how he can feel his stomach and balls tightening, cock drooling in preparation of his orgasm.

He gives in completely, wrapping his arms around the Headmaster in a tight hug, pressing as much of them together as he can. He feels completely enveloped, surrounded and caged in, and it’s soothing. Comforting, in a way. Like when he’d fallen and hurt himself and his father would come over and hold him, kissing his bruise better.

Comparing his father and the Headmaster in his head strangely doesn’t turn him off. He’s completely and utterly safe here. _Daddy_ is protecting him, making him feel good, and all the lingering thoughts and worries about this being wrong are muffled by the relief of having someone taking care of him.

In between the wet, messy kisses, Makoto finds it easier and easier to moan _Daddy._ Every time, Kirigiri’s hand tightens on his dick and his kiss becomes more fervent and needy. It feels _so good…_

He whines into the older man’s mouth, the flush of heat cresting. “Ah, Daddy, I-I’m - ah, ahh -”

Kirigiri doesn’t stop kissing him as he comes, thick white strands spilling onto the seat between his legs and coating his fingers. Makoto can’t stop himself from moaning helplessly as the Headmaster sucks on his tongue and firmly jerks him off until the shocks have faded and it starts to feel painful, the overstimulation like a burning electricity he can’t back away from. When Kirigiri finally parts away from him, letting his messy cock go and wiping off their chins with a cloth pulled from his jacket pocket, Makoto lies back limply, all warm and soft and completely satisfied.

“Was that good, sweetheart?” Kirigiri coos, pecking him on the cheek while he cleans his hands and the leather seat with the cloth.

It takes a minute for him to catch his breath, nodding. “Y-Yes.”

Kirigiri pauses. “Yes…?”

It sounds expectant, like he’s waiting for something. Makoto stares vacantly at him before flushing and looking down at his lap shyly, only to burn hotter when he sees his come-covered dick laying there. “Y… Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy. I knew I picked right.” _Picked? He chose_ him _on purpose for this?_ “Now...” Kirigiri takes hold of one of his hands, pulling it over and resting it on his own crotch. He hadn’t noticed until now - there’s a bulge in his pants, hot and hard and pressed against the zipper. His brain goes all warm again, looking at it, being forced to feel it. “Will you take care of Daddy’s problem?”

Makoto takes his hand back when it’s let go, mouth feeling dry and cottonish when Kirigiri undoes his own pants, pulling them open and taking out his thick, already red and wet cock.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” Kirigiri smiles kindly, eyes warm. “Make me feel good like I did for you. It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

Makoto swallows roughly, suddenly unsure of himself again. It had been good, nice even, letting go and simply giving in to his urges, being all wrapped up and taken care of. But like this, with the Headmaster leaned back comfortably in the seat and watching him, his mind clear and no more excuses about being taken advantage of - it’s anxiety inducing. The dreamy fog is lifting.

But… he has to, doesn’t he? It’s not like he can just get up and leave after all of this. He can’t just walk out and pretend everything’s still normal.

It’s just as the Headmaster said, it’s only fair.

So he swallows the lump in his throat and shakily wraps his hand around Kirigiri’s dick, stomach shivering nervously. It’s hot, slightly thicker than his. And he’s cut, the head of it poking out, red and shiny. Makoto strokes it hesitantly, shyly watching Kirigiri’s expression, feeling encouraged when the older man groans and his hips flex.

“Tighten your grip for me,” Kirigiri requests gently, but he can hear the expectation to be obeyed in it.

And Makoto _does_ obediently grip him harder, happy for the direction. He wants to make him feel good, just like he’d felt. So he swallows his nervousness and asks, “What else should I do?”

“Go faster,” Kirigiri says, spreading his legs a bit and watching him through hooded eyes. “Use your other hand to rub at the tip.”

He does, smiling a bit proudly to himself when Kirigiri groans again, head tipping backwards. More precome is dripping out of the tip, slicking his palm as he rubs at it, and he uses it to quicken his pace. Every sigh and moan is a sign he’s doing well, that the Headmaster is happy with him, and that makes him feel warmer and happier than he wonders if it should.

To be useful to a man like this… to a man who considers him talented just like his peers, who chose _him_ above all the rest. He’s always been in the middle of the pack, neither excelling or failing, and as such had never been singled out by anyone before, and, well… He wants that. He wants that a lot.

He can feel a tense heat building in his stomach thinking about how _badly_ he wants to be useful to Kirigiri even if it means jerking him off in his office, letting the man molest him too - if he hadn’t just orgasmed, he’d be erect and needy. He can already tell that when he goes back to his dorm room tonight, he’ll be thinking about this, dreaming about it, using it as fuel for his fantasies to masturbate to.

“I’m getting close,” Kirigiri warns after a few moments.

Makoto’s stomach quivers again, this time in excitement rather than fear. “Okay... Daddy.” Kirigiri’s cock throbs in his hands and Makoto smiles shyly at the effect of his words. “I’m - I’m glad it feels good for you, Daddy.” Another throb and an aroused moan, Kirigiri’s hand coming down to rest on his shoulder, fingers digging into the cloth. “I want to be a good boy for you…”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kirigiri hisses, and with a groan from deep in his chest he comes, the semen thick and hot as it spills over his hands. “You are a good boy, Makoto, you’re so good. You’re just the perfect little boy for Daddy, aren’t you?”

He’s rambling mindlessly, the perfect control he’d come to expect from the man slipping as he comes down from his orgasm. Makoto likes this side of him too, and he likes knowing he’s the only student who’s seen him like this. It feels special. _He_ feels special. It’s addicting, this forbidden knowledge he’s been given.

After regathering himself, Kirigiri tucks himself back into his pants and stands, going to his desk to fetch some tissue for Makoto to clean his hands. He self-consciously tucks himself back in too when he’s done, grimacing at the sticky mess. It’s quiet, and Makoto feels the buzzing anxiety start up again in the base of his skull but he forces it down.

“Um… Sh… Should I leave?” he asks awkwardly, unsure what answer he’d prefer.

Kirigiri moves until he’s standing in front of him, and strokes his cheek before leaning down and kissing him with an open mouth, all teeth and tongue. It’s enough to make that hook of tired arousal pull at him again. When they part, Kirigiri smiles at him.

“I think we’ve done enough for today.”

“A-Ah… Okay.” He’s not disappointed. He’s not even sure how far he’d be willing to go, but… he’s starting to think it might be pretty far, as long as the Headmaster picks him again, treats him like he’s special again.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. If you want to play with Daddy again that badly, I’ll make sure to call you again.”

He flushes and avoids Kirigiri’s eyes. “Okay,” he says in a shy whisper.

“Be a good boy.” And with that, Kirigiri heads back to his desk and dismissively picks at his paperwork, completely ignoring his presence still in the room.

Makoto bows after he stands, and unlocks the door to the office, shutting the door behind him quietly. He wanders back to his dorm room, boxers sticking to him uncomfortably and every step reminding him of just what he’d done. He feels anxious, as though anyone looking at him could tell exactly just what he and the Headmaster had done together, but that’s not possible. He doesn’t even see anyone on the way back, but the feeling of guilt and shame follows him like eyes in the shadows.

Guilt and shame, thick and heavy, mixing equally with the pride and excitement he’d felt.

Despite that, he still jerks himself off when he gets back to his room, moaning and panting for his Daddy, imagining a broader, masculine hand touching him, a body pressing against him and a mouth swallowing him whole.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally wrote this pairing, enjoyed it, would like to write more chapters of them! pwease let me know if you enjoyed 💕


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